The problem is when they put an idea about you into currency and others glom onto it. For instance, in my case I was genuinely confused about how Westerners saw me, because it would be like if they saw Clarissa solely in terms of a Russian stereotype, but with an identity that had everything to do with their own natures and what they felt it necessary to transcend. For instance, “Yes! (sigh!) We ALL used to be vodka swilling drunkards, with little scarves like babushkas, but we are so over that now. We raised ourselves up out of deneracy and we embrace a modern ideal where we no longer drink or commit evil and we take care of our appearances.”
In the same way, I had this false image projected onto me from the moment my family migrated — that I was something to be overcome. And I had to be put in my place so I could be properly overcome, or otherwise people would think they were still Russian and lose their self-eteem and take up alcohol.
So I was constantly getting the impression that Western people were snooty and exaggerately superior about their power and inclined to penalize me for stepping over small, invisible lines — lines that were mostly in their head.
And then my father put into currency that I was a feminine flake, which made the whole world seem to have gone mad.
It became very, very difficult to correct this — although I tried to purge any possible madness out of myself.
Still, it wasted a lot of my intelletual energy and was a confusing time for me, for a long time.
No comments:
Post a Comment